


I am with you forever, the end.

by shayzgirl



Category: Haywire (2011), Penelope (2006)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-17
Updated: 2012-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-03 20:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shayzgirl/pseuds/shayzgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny struggles with the times that Paul is away on the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am with you forever, the end.

Paul had said he would call. Promised he would in fact. Promised twice even. Once after taking the job and again before boarding the plane. Both times he'd sealed it with a kiss. The second kiss had felt too final to Johnny. Like Paul was saying goodbye just in case.  That had been two weeks, three days, and sixteen hours ago. Johnny had tried, had been trying so hard to give Paul a chance. He knew jobs could be tricky, become complicated, that if he called home at the wrong time that someone could trace it back to Johnny, use him to get to Paul. Neither of them wanted that. But Johnny hated waiting.

He was constantly terrified of another phone call like the one almost a year ago. He didn't want another unnamed nurse from some unknown hospital in some unknown country calling him, telling him that Paul had been shot (again) or worse. That thought kept him up at night. The bed was too empty, too cold without Paul there. It was a little easier to sit at his piano, nursing a cup of coffee (which he really shouldn't have been having but it was coffee or going out for a beer), and hoping-wishing-praying that the phone would ring.

Johnny knew without looking at the clock that it wasn’t yet 3am. He'd finally finished his coffee, left the cup just sitting on top of the piano by the ashtray. Paul hated that ashtray; wished Johnny would throw it out. He'd tried, all that time ago, when he'd stopped gambling and drinking, when he'd finally cleaned up the apartment for the first time in months. But he couldn't do it, so there it sat. Johnny wasn't an idiot. He knew that Paul knew why it was still there. A reminder. Of who he had been, of what he'd done, of what he never wanted to be again. It was hard. Johnny knew that Paul also knew about the pack of cigarettes hidden in the third locker.

They'd fought over those when Paul had found them. He'd even taken them, crushed them and chucked them off the roof and into a dumpster in the alley behind their apartment. Johnny would have been impressed if he hadn't been so furious. He'd gone out the next day and bought two packs, one to be place in the lockers and the other to sit on top of the piano.

That had prompted yet another fight, another ruined pack of cigarettes, and Johnny doing the dumbest thing he'd ever done, by punching his boyfriend. They'd almost broken up then. Paul had, miraculously, remained calm while telling Johnny to sort his shit out before leaving the apartment for the next fourteen hours.

He'd returned to find Johnny asleep in their bed, on top of the covers. He'd curled up next to him, holding him, and when Johnny had woken up a little while later, they'd made up.

It was the only reason Johnny hadn't pulled out the pack yet. He knew he'd disappoint Paul, and himself, if he even had one or part of one. So, he waited.

Time kept moving, minute into hour. The temptation to have one, just one, was becoming too great. He'd started pacing the apartment, occasionally running his hands through his hair, grabbing at sections in frustrated fists, yanking hard enough to cause pain but not pull any strands out.

Finally, at sixteen after four, he'd grabbed his coat, scarf, and hat and was going to force himself to go for a walk, when the phone rang. He nearly tripped over a chair trying to get to it.

"Pau— Hello?"

"Johnny, fuck, I'm so sorry. I tried- well, was going to try to call you earlier, but there wasn't enough privacy. Are you—?"

Johnny had ended up leaning against the wall, relief washing over him, and causing him to end up mostly sitting on the floor.

"Johnny? Please answer me, you're scaring me."

"I can't— you— fuck— Paul, I—"

His voice was stranded and shaking, too many emotions erupting to the surface, fighting for dominance and jumbling inside his mind. He fought back all of them, as well as tears, not wanting any of them to crack through while Paul was still in another country, too far away for that type of conversation.

"I'll be… back, in two days. We'll talk then, okay. I promise. And I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

There was a silence, as though Paul wanted to say more before the line went dead. Johnny hung the phone back up, forcing himself to breathe through the tears that had yet to fall. He thought he'd feel better after the phone call, that was the point of it after all, but instead he felt worse, horrible even. Words he hadn't meant to say, not like that, not over the phone, had tried to spill out. Thoughts he'd been fighting for weeks, maybe even months now. He hated himself a little for thinking them, hated himself even more for almost saying them.

He had been thinking, if things had been different, if he hadn't received that phone call, hadn't caught the first flight to Dublin, if he'd stayed, if he'd been around to see Penelope more, the girl he'd thought he could maybe fall in love with before he'd even seen her, the girl who'd inspired him to change, to better himself. What if he'd been home alone on that Halloween night? Would he be happy with her? Happier even?

He wouldn't ever know. Not really. He forced himself to stand up and after setting down his things, forced himself into bed.

It was almost eleven when he woke up next. He didn't feel any better and knew he had to leave the apartment. Without showering or changing clothes, he grabbed his stuff and left. He let his feet lead him, taking through the park by the river, and passed his favourite tree.

"Johnny?"

Johnny smiled to see the familiar face walking towards him.

"Penelope."

"Hey, I was just thinking about you the other day."

Johnny chuckled, as Penelope hugged him.

"Yeah?"

"Yep. How are you?"

Johnny shrugged.

"Wanna go for coffee and talk about it?"

"Sure."

They ended up buying coffee from one of the corner coffee carts in the park and finding a bench to sit on.

"So, what's going on?"

"I think Paul and I are breaking up."

"Is it because of his job?"

Johnny nodded, taking a sip of his coffee.

"What happened?"

"I don’t know. I mean… I do, sort of."

He sighed, trying to figure out how to explain it to her. She sipped her coffee, waiting patiently, and letting him think.

"I love him, I do, but it's so hard when he's gone. Even when he promises to contact me, let me know he's alive, I'm still afraid when the phone rings it won't be him. That it'll be another hospital or worse."

Penelope nodded.

"You worry and you're allowed to worry. And before you disagree, you are."

"You think so?"

"Yep. I think you two definitely need to talk, but before you do, I want you to think about something."

"Okay."

"I mean it, Johnny. Promise me you'll think about this."

"Okay, I promise."

"Is it worth it? The time apart and the worry, is it worth all of that, to still be with him."

Johnny thought it over, not yet finding an answer, which he knew she hadn't meant for him to figure out yet.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. If you need anything, either of you, call me."

Johnny hugged her, another thank you not being enough especially when she had no reason to be so nice to him, when he hadn't seen or spoken to her since Halloween.

"Take care of yourself, Johnny."

Johnny nodded again. Penelope smiled at him. They finished their coffee, sitting quietly just watching the world around them.

Two days later, Johnny stood at the airport, waiting for Paul's flight to come in. He'd thought over Penelope's question all the time and still didn't have an answer. He knew he'd meant every word he'd told her though.

When Paul walked through the arrivals gate, Johnny smiled. He waved as grey-green eyes spotted him.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” Paul said once he was standing in front of Johnny.

“I didn’t either until about an hour ago.”

Johnny kept looking at Paul, collecting the words in his head that he wanted to say, to make Paul understand.

“I am so sorry,” Paul said, averting his eyes.

“Don’t. Please don’t. I— shit. Please look at me.”

Paul did as Johnny asked, slowly and unsure, while Johnny took a deep breathe.

“I wasn’t sure if I was coming today. I’ve been thinking the last few days and I didn’t honestly have an answer until now. You’re worth it. The time apart, the worry, the lonely nights, all of it. I miss you like hell when you’re gone and I know one day that phone is going to ring and I’m gonna wish I hadn’t answered it, but I know I’d rather have to face that day, than not be with you.”

“Really? Because I hate worrying you and I wouldn’t blame you or hate you for leaving me. I can’t stop doing this job. I’ve been pickier with the jobs I take, how long I’m gone and whether or not I will be able to contact you, but it’s not going to get easier. I got lucky with Mallory. That’s not going to happen again.”

“Yes, really, and I know all of that. I thought about it. Still think about it. But I’m not going anywhere. And I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Johnny had to kiss him then because it had been almost three weeks since their last kiss and it hadn’t been the last kiss, so he had to reassure himself and reassure Paul that they were both still there, still alive, still together despite everything. And Paul kissed him back, with promises of days and weeks and months to come.

“Let’s grab your bag and go home.”

“Will you play for me?”

Johnny smiled at that, bright blue eyes meeting grey-green.

“Of course. But none of that unpacking bullshit. You’ll relax on the couch and just listen.”

“Obviously.”

Johnny smiled, kissing Paul once more before they headed to baggage claim.


End file.
